


Distal Coordinates

by saltyseaachips



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anxiety, Everyone needs a break, Female pronouns for Pidge, Galra Keith, Half Galran Keith, Keith and his many Galran dads, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Slow Build, Slow Burn, The Blade of Marmora - Freeform, angsty pining, well not really but ye
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-03
Updated: 2017-02-14
Packaged: 2018-09-21 19:01:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 20,975
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9562349
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saltyseaachips/pseuds/saltyseaachips
Summary: All his life Keith had been fighting things he doesn't know of yet.(Later he finds answers and questions in a person and place he's never dreamed of.)





	1. Chapter 1

Keith was born with a dagger lodged in his heart. For a while it had been kept there, until he had noticed. It subsided, simply nonexistent. Keith let it be.

At the start, Keith's life had been structured from rules setted out for him, laid out step by step. Simple like breathing, just follow the steps, in and out, was what he was told. Growing up and learning of things he shouldn't have (too little, too late), there had been more rules that were piling up and painstakingly so.

Although it didn't matter because he knew that he couldn't disobey, The Blade of Marmora’s codes wouldn't avow such misconduct. Yet he also knew that they couldn't throw him out, after all it was the one home he had come to known, a loophole he could have.

A push and pull relationship had begun to develop, Keith pushing and then them pulling back out at him that had been warring on for a odd-some years when Keith had seen that there were others like him, across the galaxy. Terrans, no—humans.

Compared to the others, Galras had an extreme diversity in traits of genes from a menagerie of aliens. To put it gently, Galras were the mitigated gene pool.

All however had a spectrum of consistent cold colors, animalistic yet clement eyes, with pointed ears and claws and had varying heights, over six feet easily. All that Keith lacked, largely.

Apparently he was the first breakthrough in biology terms, half and half alien and human that Keith had to cover up which didn't contribute to feeling better of his individuality. In fact it made him somewhat reclusive, despite the close circle he was encompassed in. Then again he was on a isolated husk of a planet with a crowd that weren't the greatest of talkers.

Still it was fruitless that they would try to hide it from him, what he was and who they were, before Keith saw the differences to what he was to them. With provided understanding and explanation, Keith had squelched the majority of the urge to search for the missing parts of himself.

There was an parasitic emptiness that hadn't disappeared as he had thought. Perhaps it couldn't disappear on its own he thought.

Yet over a stint in time, there was a stronger gut-wrenching that clawed at him to venture out, do something that had him increasingly restless that in turn made everyone else restless. Leading to abrupt blow ups, bouts of worthless anger and self-pitying.

But for once, they were at ease for however long that could be.

A commemoration had been in session, with quiet esteem in the rituals of it. Overseers had participated, a rite that Keith had been impatient for. The pure toil that he had did, those accursed trials that left him hurting and scarred had been an achievement, clutching at a blade.

From the days from being officially sworn in for a true soldier of their cause, Keith reminisced acridly about when in the past he had summed up his courage, for a thing that had been repeatedly taken down throughout his years spent in adolescence with some self-loathing and hatred for those damned oaths of secrecy.

Which now sat in his hands, innocently and pristine. The blade that had been presented to him had an unearthly glow, the symbol pulsating as if clashing with the foreign blood invisible in the veins underneath his skin.

“What's the point of having all these rules when you know I wouldn't break them,” Keith asked later, which was a bit of a stretch. Keith bent them to his preference, sometimes. It was hard not to.

Kolivan only sighed at Keith, a habit that he had been doing whenever they got into their discussions, as there was a hand at his shoulder to placate him but instead Keith stiffened. His hand did not fall away.

“As the members of The Blade of Marmora we have to abide by these rules. You may see it as nonsensical, yet it is needed as are the natural laws of the universe,” that ended the compacted philosophical lecture as Kolivan left to his quarters, frustration that had the younger’s stomach in knots.

Those rules applied to Keith, never to the others and everyone else knew that. Rules never sat too well with him.

Stepping out to him, Keith called after, “You have to trust me anytime now. I've proven myself multiple times over! I took the trials and passed!” His words were the same old ones, the same old pending rage that he expelled because Keith needed to see what was out there, beyond this enclosed meteorite of a home. What was projected on the astral maps that he had snuck away in his room, staring, outlining—tracing at the ceiling for hours to imprint in his brain.

No books or holographic depictions could describe the details of the planetary systems that Keith had memorized to compare against, until he saw it for himself. One day he would see what could be beyond space, beyond where he was.

There was so much more that Keith had to know, to witness, so much that he was missing out on. He was living proof of it, living in defiance.

Keith knew what he was but that didn't mean he didn't know what was outside of him, a bigger part of what he was.

 _You were meant for something bigger, I know it._ Thace had encouraged before he gone off and Keith felt that he wasn't right for it, not what Thace thought he was. He hoped Thace could come back to tell him how wrong he was, after Keith would sock him in the jaw for leaving without telling him.

In the hallway, Kolivan had stopped to turn back, his eyes softening, minutely. “Your mother had a profusion of wisdom, she knew what was best for you Keith. Understand that.” Before Keith could continue his tirade and go on to question exactly why did Kolivan had to bring up the subject of parents, the other had left, leaving him alone in the room. The receding footfalls echoed the pangs that he felt deep in his soul.

His mother had been an faceless figure though he knew that she was Galran despite that Keith hadn't seen any females of the race yet and was beginning to seriously doubt there were. That was a question he didn't have a answer to, and didn't question it.

His father was human and the resemblance showed greatly, his name being another trace to his supposed humanity. Of his facial features, he wondered if that was the single connection he had to his father. Keith didn't remember him much.

Similarly his father had been left out of the picture too, leaving Keith to ponder for a while before turning away from what had been unavoidable abandonment that would take him nowhere, resolve ironed down. There was no reason to be over obsessive on something that would amount to nothing. Keith already knew what he amounted to and had lived with it for a long time now.

With a frustrated clench of his teeth Keith decided to not pursue Kolivan and stalked to where the training room was. His new knife tingled in his hand but he stowed it away. Having his hands hitting into something, physically getting his mingled emotions out would be more gratifying.

Several of his affiliates acknowledged him as Keith sparred with a practice droid, until sweat dripped off his face and he was forced to take a break from the blow that had been inflicted when Keith had gotten too fierce, overreaching. It didn't matter until his knuckles and torso ached with a acquired pain, his fists unclenching.

The knife was still tingling from his side and Keith went to unsheathe it, moving it around in his hand as it glistened in the overhead lights. Taking it by the handle, he feinted with it, the fluidity of it moving through the air, soundless.

By then everyone had left, as he pantomimed taking down make believe foes, his panting a thunderous storm.

Soon his body crashed and his bones melted from fatigue, as Keith then sought refuge to his bed.

When nearing his room he was surprised seeing Ulaz by the wall, his arms crossed and his ears flicked when Keith stopped. Not at all expecting him since he had been off on a mission and had been gone for a while, Keith looked to him, a bit betrayed and a bit bitter.

Ulaz gave him a small smile as if he hadn't noticed. “Same old argument with Kolivan I take it?” Word always traveled fast despite that no one seemed to talk and most of them were virtually impossible to confront. Saying nothing, Keith passed him as the Galra followed him into his room while Keith whipped off the clothed cowl and slid off the helmet that hid his peculiar features.

While he put it down, Ulaz waited. “What do you want?” It was spoken fresh from irritability and in retrospect, not appropriately, when Ulaz brow’s wrinkled together.

Regrettably Keith wanted to apologize, considering that Ulaz was one of the few people that could understand Keith and sided with him more, even against their leader at times. “Sorry—just…” he lamely left it unfinished, a gloved hand going through his raggedy hair.

Sitting at the bed, Ulaz let the other calm himself. When Keith’s shoulders slumped over, Ulaz resumed talking. “I knew those rumination exercises would do you some good.” Keith raised his brow because he hated those but said nothing else while Ulaz shifted in a more languid position. Keith elbowed him, impatient.

“So what’s up? The mission a success?”

Ulaz gave him a conceited grin. “I came back in one piece didn’t I?” Keith didn't roll his eyes at him but it was close to it.

“Maybe you're a clone. I mean you were gone for some time, I thought you got abducted by humans.” That idea in itself was a joke. Afterall humans were one of the lesser advanced species, although it was taken harshly around Keith (though he found some truth to it from his observations. From what he knew, they were fickle.)

Ulaz gave a laugh that eased Keith along, his agitation lessening to a mild turbulence. Bumping shoulders, Ulaz let out another laugh a bit more biting before turning to Keith.

“Well I didn’t spend all my time cooped up on a ship for nothing, mopping those floors.” At that Keith snapped up because Ulaz didn't usually briefed his missions to him despite that Keith had gone on a couple of his own, (although there was usually supervision with another person.) Seeing that got his attention, Ulaz continued.

“Thace has already been in Zarkon’s ship for a few months.” Keith knew that from his prolonged absence, putting two and two together. Also the others weren't as discreet as they thought they were; ironic as they studied in the art of secrecy. “I’ve proven my worth there and was offered to become one of them and have been for a few days.”

From that Keith couldn’t help the sensation of discontentment and envy at the proposition. From the boring run of the mill trading and the occasional skirmishes between space pirates, there wasn’t much to do on base besides train for nothing to fight against. If there wasn't anything to fight for, it was pointless to find justification for it.

Ulaz cleared his throat, “I spoke to Kolivan a while ago.” Keith let him continue, mounting enthrallment in his belly. “I asked him if I could bring a recruiter with me.” His eyes went to Keith’s and Keith knew what he was proposing, the chance that Keith had been waiting for. The chance to finally take what had seemed his entirety of his life had arrived, ever since a training blade was first placed in anxious hands.

“Me?”

“Yes. Who else?”

“What for?” Keith knew the answer but he was eager for further confirmation, his pulse thrumming at the sudden realization that this was it.

Ulaz mulled it over, fingers tapping, “Essentially to be a spy like me. But since you're a rookie they might assign you to clean up duties also like me when I had started,” Keith couldn't find that as a disappointment.

The closer he was to the filth of the ship, the more he could listen in and question things without suspicion. Gladly Keith would take that role, even if toilets and tiled floors would be what he's subjected to; it didn't mean he would enjoy it necessarily.

“I guess I got my wish after becoming part of the organization,” Keith tried to play off but his voice couldn't hide the tinge of excitement.

With a arm slinging over his shoulders, Kolivan brought him in a single-armed hug as Keith leaned into it. Fondly, Kolivan ruffled at his messy hair that Keith grumbled but let it happen for a short time.

“Keith you were always part of the organization.” He pulls away and goes towards the door with a glance back as Keith smoothed out his flyaway hair.

“You're become a part of our family after all. Don't forget that.” Then he left, the sliding woosh of air leaving him in silence. His words weren't lost on him, the weapon catching his eye as it laid on his covers. Turning it in his hands, the transformable dagger reverted into its original form but it was suitable for him in the size it had been.

Gleaming in the limelight of his room, Keith stared back at the reflection before sliding it under his pillow as it went back to the handheld size.

Opting for rest instead of hygiene, he stripped down to his inner garments, letting his clothing go somewhere off the side of his bed.

Instead Keith took out the holographic maps, he let them unravel onto the ceiling, landscaping the vast space as Keith let himself get lost in the patterns.

The artificial stars twinkled with the stars outlooking his room and Keith lined up the stars to find the path to the outside, into the unknown. Keith didn't fear the unknown, he craved to know it, to see what it was.

In the humming silence, Keith couldn't help but feel closer to discovery of something important, the clawing inside calming immensely.

 

.

 

.

 

.

 

“How exactly will you tell them that he's half Galran? To them he’s Terran, he’ll be killed.”

The Blade of Marmora had gathered around the departing spaceship, solemnity that spoke in volumes more than their voices could convey. While their faces were masked, their body language was a mixture of emotions, mainly with consternation among them.

To all of them whether they had liked it or not, Keith has latched a place in their lives and was a irreplaceable part of it. To not have that, was the sudden disappearance of normalcy and familiarity that didn't bode with the brotherhood.

Yet no one else protested. If the choice was for their youngest to be let go of, then they couldn't change what had been decided. What they could do was diligently wait for his return and all seemed keen to doing so.

Antok and Keith had been the rash hotheads out of all of them and despite that, the two got along together. When he had heard of Keith’s mission, Antok hadn't been as thrilled as Keith had been. Still it was expected as Antok was protective over him, overtly so.

Antok who had boomed his inquiry was visibly displeased, his tail seething and his muscles bulging, ready for a fight that wasn't his. Subdued behind him, Kolivan’s sigh left through his nostrils as he came forward.

“It was spoken over with Ulaz who had contacted Thace.” Heads swiveled at the mention of a comrade as Ulaz walked to the front and near to the two others. “Thace has assured that he will make sure Keith will be protected.” He went to Ulaz, his hand coming up as they leaned in, their hands gripping to the forearms for their sign of camaraderie. “Take care of him. For my sake and his brothers.” He tilted his head to the congregation. “We all worry about him too much as it is.”

Ulaz let go of his arm with a grazing hand, “Do not worry.” He and Keith shared a mutual look, Keith awaiting to go. “Keith knows of the precautions and he’s beyond ready.” The boy in question had been waiting by the side of the airship, a hand fiddling with his helmet.

“It's not like I've been training for years,” Keith grouched sardonic, messing with his shirt that had been provided as regular clothes. Despite that it did cover every inch of him Keith never felt so bared and exposed under it, stopping himself from tugging at the sleeves to go into his gloves. He would take his bodysuit any day, a constant he had on a basis, a regulation in his life. Thankfully, his helmet could stay though his dagger had to be hidden and would be transferred back to him by Ulaz who had it for safekeeping.

Keith gave his arm, taking a hold of Kolivan’s. A surrogate parent was what the Galra truly was and was a fact Keith had hammered into him from others that was indirectly implied, but at that moment Kolivan was something close to a father that he had, his heart seizing up in a painful twist that had his eyes burn. His throat constricted and Keith held onto him, letting his head cave into his chest and hearing the minuscule intake of a breath.

“Thank you for trusting me.” He let go stepping from him and couldn't make out the expression on Kolivan’s face. He'd never seen it before and he couldn't identify it as it wasn't quite sadness that the other was failing to conceal. Before he could see it for what it was, Ulaz had him by the shoulder to steer him onto the ramp of the ship.

“Keith!” They both glanced back to see Antok going forward. The broader Galra seemed to be fighting with himself before he had his head down slightly, beside Kolivan in resented resignation.

“This is your mission. Be careful.” A pause before he finished his message. “The Blade of Marmora stands with you. Do not forget that.”

That was the closest thing to brotherly affection that Antok had showed him since of late and Keith appreciated it. The multitude had rectified themselves, all standing as they saw them off, the message of their trust to him, deafening in their numbers.

With a crooked grin, he gave a two fingered salute as the shuttle closed and launched into the space. Keith peeked out the hatch window, his heartbeat rising with the hovering ship.

Joining Kolivan to the stations, Keith sat in the copilot seat as he brought up the displays to the destination. Previously he had digested the intel for the mission, going over it with Kolivan and Keith was confident he would have a mission success.

A first mission, a first success, wouldn't be a bad start for his reputation. Grinning widely at Kolivan, the two sped off, into the pocketed abyss.

As the spaceship tapered from sight, The Blade of Marmora was worrying as they begun to fret to themselves and to why it had to be Keith of all people who had zero experience (making it up with his impulsiveness) and just why, and Kolivan nudged Antok intentionally.

“Will you be alright comrade?”

“Shouldn't I be asking you that?”

Silence flew over them as both let out bated sighs, the spacecraft becoming a speck in the blackened blue atmosphere.

Nonetheless, Kolivan had his sights on the blankness above them.

“Keith is Galran and also possesses the resilience of a human. He will do well.” From his words, the subordinate inwardly agreed as he crossed his arms, Antok putting his head upwards as if to pinpoint them from the clutter of speckles.

“For our sakes, he will.”

 

.

 

.

 

.

 

As they traveled further than Keith had even been, Kolivan had instructed him with more commands that Keith compartmentalized in the back of his mind.

For the time being, his eyes followed the stellar systems, as the constellations matched up with his maps he had left behind. Not that he needed those anymore, as it couldn't quite compare to the fascination of the galaxies. From his mappings, there were numbers assigned to the constellations, a lettering system to name the locations. Keith pondered if there were names to the stars like people and not a series in numerology.

“Remember Keith, keep a cool head. This ship isn't only Galra, there are prisoners of war there as well.”

From the severity in his voice, Keith had stopped his idle gazing and rechecked their supplies and technical equipment to make sure they were as typical as space mongers could be. The sigil of Marmora had been stowed with Ulaz and encrypted into the ship only to their knowledge.

A plinking from the screen made the two glimpse up to the cursor of a transmission that had been brought up, Keith tensing and was either going to go under the console or spring out. At his conflict, Ulaz decided for him letting him stand beside him as Keith adjusted his posture that mismatched his clothing.

Noticing Ulaz put a hand to his forearm as Keith let himself relax.

“Keith be normal,” Ulaz snidely said and Keith did what he said, to a degree. The boy was as conspicuous as the helmet on his head.

Tsking at him, the Galran accepted the transmission and let out a terse release of air.

“Ulaz do you have Keith—is that the best you could do with him?” Critically surveying his apparel, Thace had waved it off as Ulaz made a comment to defend the fashion choice.

“I see you in proximity, be sure to go to me as soon as you board.” His eyes shifted over to Keith, softening in regard to him. “Keith you'll be with me when you board. Do not question my actions, act accordingly.” The area he in was dark, purple dancing on the walls and overcasting his face.

Keith stared, his eyes up with resolution. “Trust me,” were the words that Keith had been constantly saying, and he meant it.

Thace nodded before the transmission ended and Keith could now see the approaching spaceship that completely eclipsed theirs. From their perspective it was gargantuan, imposing over them and Keith’s heart rate began climbing again.

The stars seemed blackened out and all Keith could do was stand on watch as the other ship let them port. With one last glance the nearest stars shimmered iridescent that alight a flame in his chest, a updraft in his determination.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoa dudes Galra Keith is real but what if the BOM took him in and trained him. So yeah this will def be an AU and for chapters who knows? Also this is unbeta-d so I apologize for any mistakes.
> 
> Edit: I decided to basically develop a bit on the galras because they're so diverse looking tbh. Like Zarkon looks like a turtle so yeah


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I've decided that I'll try and update every 1-2 weeks or so. It just depends on how busy I am and how much time/motivation I have. I have the story outlined but I haven't filled it out yet so there may be some variation in chapters and revision. I'll put more notes somewhere heh
> 
> Don't worry Shiro will be there soon :)

When trekking onto the deck, Keith had taken note of the meticulousness that had been taken in forethought. It wasn’t coincidental that they were the only people that had arrived at this time.

A ways from them was Thace, his parted hair being a clear indicator as he met them, swiftly making his way over in an orderly manner despite the fact that he didn't have to. A question wormed into Keith's head before he chased it away: How much had he changed? It was a insensitive thing to think on he realized a millisecond too late.

With a grunt of recognition, Thace overlooked him, passive before directing himself to the other Galra. Giving them privacy to talk, Keith let his eyes flicker on the interior of the aircraft.

As the two older aliens were huddled in a hushed conversation, Keith exploring a bit, not going too far to concern. Though the landing had no others, spacecrafts that were left in wake, in their hangars that were stacked upon one another, and Keith was tempted to see if he could pilot them. Keith had a gift with aircrafts and could adapt to certain types of mechanical marvels, a hobby at how much and how often he could test the limits of flight.

Being up in the constellations, free to go anywhere was something that Keith had craved. When the gravity of his body couldn't tie him down, when he was aimlessly flying through a vortex of celestial bodies and gas clouds and just be there, up where he couldn't be, wasn't suppose to be. It was an uplifting gratification, where those places were.

If he could, Keith would explore every part of the universe until he was satisfied, got sick of outer space, which he imagined wouldn't happen anytime soon.

Soon enough the two came towards him, Ulaz hand going to the branch of his upper arm that Keith mirrored, Thace in the background to make sure they weren’t to be interrupted.

“Think of what I’ve told you Keith. I know you can do this,” and then Ulaz had disappeared another way while they went in the opposite. Ulaz was in the lower ranks of a platoon, from what he had told Keith on their trip to the ship. It didn't matter as Keith would catch him around some other way.

Thace seemed careworn, a prominent tenseness wedging its way between them the further they went down. As they came to the end of the corridor, Keith had walked beside him; Thace letting him and Keith took that as a initiative.

Keith began, “It’s good to see you.” Thace made no moves to talk to him and Keith went nearer to his side to dissipate the distance that had formed. Keith wondered if he really should follow through with a friendly punch to get his friend to at least speak to him.

Thace’s lone eye went to the far corner of it, “Do not speak unless spoken to, above all.” His voice had lowered to where he could hear in propinquity, as Keith swallowed his mistake and lowered his head. The radiating passageways doused them in magenta purples, as they traveled down through the cell doors.

This was his first taste in the routines; there were noises creating a dissonance when they went through. Howling from the barred cells, doors resounding with depravity as Keith hurried to keep up with Thace as he had slowed. The living conditions from what Keith assumed and how his nose was wrinkling weren’t in the peakest conditions.

Nearing a obscured doorway as they had passed manual robots, Thace spoke to him, his voice pressing to soothing. “Your resolution has to be strong because if not you will be broken and reformed. It doesn’t solely apply to prisoners it applies to soldiers too. The one difference is that they’re confined and we aren’t.” From the veiled ultimatum it had Keith flinch from the trepidation that had sprouted. “However that can change,” his eyes bolting down at the corridor before back to him, “and you need to know it doesn’t matter what rank or how long you’ve been here. If you’re suspected of, you can and will be penalized.”

Then, straightening up, the Galran strode ahead as Keith strayed behind as he assessed the situation. “So stay low and follow your lead?”

Thace turned his body to him, “I’ve persuaded Ulaz that I would be with you at most times. It’s better that we aren't near one another in public which Kolivan agreed too. At the frown he bore, Thace offered a semblance of reassurance from a wistful upturn of his mouth. “However you will need to prove your worth.”

From what he had heard, Keith resisted the urge to throttle himself. Years of working up to getting in the Blades,a few weeks ago getting in, and not much had changed presently. Another task he had to complete, but with higher stakes.

It wasn’t only him on the line but there were others, and the piteous civilians that were scattered on planets.

Taking a turn it appeared that they were traveling deeper into the core of the ship, as the light had faded, the circuitry woven throughout the walls, illuminating them.

“I have to bring you to Haggar, the witch,” a vehement undertone colored his voice and made Keith wary. Witches procured spells could have ruinous effects with how much they intended to inflict the victim. Their magic was transcribed for death.

Whether it be short, most had long lasting aftermath which was why hexes were to be avoided. Never having to encounter it firsthand, several in The Blade of Marmora had run ins that as a result warned him from them because they wouldn't risk it, he couldn't risk it.

The corridors were narrowing and the desolation of prisoners was decreasing, the sounds of misery becoming muddled; the rooms lacked patrolling sentries but were replaced with heavy enforcement that came in padlocks and passcodes. Pitch black, the dimness made it harder to see as Thace guided him to a enclosed room.

“This is it.” Keith spoke aloud, palms clammy in his gloves, looking to Thace for validation. With a slant of his head, Thace put a hand on his helmet, pounding on the metallic plating in a way that sent Keith back to childhood, when Thace would be proud of him and pounded on his oversized helmet.

“She will try and look into your mind. The meditation you had to do will be useful.” His tone became lighter from the mention of the dreaded meditations that they all had to endure, especially when Keith and Antok weren't too good at those and still weren't. It was inside joke that Keith had come to smile at, remembering when he had fussed over it as a snot-nosed kid.

“What do y’know those lessons did come in handy,” Keith said, with the small smile that Thace returned before it deadened to a vacancy while Keith steeled his nerves.

As Thace went in first, Keith took a stance next to him as he spotted the hunched over figure of a woman. Caped by a cloak the witch’s eyes speared through him, a prying presence in his head that Keith didn't block out as that would cause suspicion despite that it went against what he had trained for.

Oppressively it hung as a hazard before wave of her sleeve beckoned him to a contraption of a chair. As if he was already a lap dog, Keith thought, rebellious.

Keith abide to her as he seated himself in the chair, balmy by the previous person’s body heat.

The sorceress appeared to have floated to him, her paling waxen hair moving with an unseen force as she came to audit Keith, mere inches from him.

A scorching scent washed over him and he ingested a cough. Eyes hooking onto the silent other in the room, Thace had been looking to Keith, the vacancy on his face still composed.

“Leave us.” With a sharp head bow and utterance of his allegiance, Thace left and the door shut with a cold finality. The woman eyes weren't the familiar yellow that he was accustomed to, inured and pansophical that Keith made himself look at.

As if carrying out a surgical procedure, she put her hand up her stare becoming prominent.

“Your mind is guarded but you aren't resisting. Why is that?” She mused, a hand out with an baleful energy inflating. The spherical matter had swelled, as she drew it by his face and Keith kept himself grounded, subconsciously dipping in the lessons of tolerance.

Her eyes narrowed. “Your will is strong but your ambitions are stronger. What do you seek?” Her voice had him in a vice, augury cloying.

The answer would be an ordinary one, one that many have said before when pledging allegiance. One that would be said before rendering themselves to the war.

“I wish to serve Lord Zarkon,” the response churned out of him and Haggard held her hand back in contemplation. “It would be an honor to have the opportunity to fight for his empire.”

The hag seemed almost pitying but it was tarnished by the lashing malice as she withdrew from him, as if repulsed from the slight resistance that Keith had begun to pull from his previous teachings.

“I sense that you are not telling the truth.” Keith showed no fear as she studied him and she edged her way back to him. “But you are not truly Galran.” It was like she could see through his disguise, as if there was no functional purpose as she put a dent in his armor. “A blinded fool would feel that you are different. Interesting.” Attenuated fingers danced at her sides. “We don't have have Terran prisoners yet but you could be the first.”

From her words Keith was irked from her suggestion. He hadn't strive this far to become an object for their pleasure. Containing his indignation, his hands furling into fists as Keith decided to fend off the presence that had invaded his head. Haggard had noticed and as her control slipped Keith took advantage of that.

“I can prove myself.”

“Can you?”

“Give me a blade and I'll let you know.”

There was a crowing cackle at his chagrin and the energy dispelled but the oppressive power lingered that wasn't fully from the witch herself. Withdrawing to the shadows, her eyes never left his.

“We shall see human.” It was an acidic spit to who and what he was, and Keith then preferred being named Terran from how human was used as a weakness. It made him vulnerable and Haggard had pushed a sword through the gap of his armor. But it was a small mercy that it was over, the elapsed time had made it unbearable.

Exiting, Keith got up and kept a good measure from her. The woman had disappeared in the recessing corridor, her nacreous eyes foreboding. “Perhaps Lord Zarkon will have the first viewings to it.”

Before leaving, she exchanged words to Thace who had been waiting by the opposite corridor’s dimensions and the Galran nodded after a moment. Thace seemed to have aged when he had came over to him, and made Keith walk in front of him.

Hostility bunched at his shoulders and Keith knew that something had changed from the original plans.

“Where are you taking me?” Keith was aware of the situation he was in and that Haggar was a factor of it. Or rather the source of it. The next time Keith saw her he would burn that witch.

“The prisoner cells.” Keith’s lungs had climbed its way into his throat, and he swallowed it back down into the pit of his stomach. A abrupt buzz of vertigo overcame him and he knew that there was no way out. Escaping was out of the option for jeopardizing the mission and Keith racked his head but came up with no other solution.

Everything plummeted as he imagined the worst, not even having the chance to fulfill anything. However he took in regard that Thace hadn't seemed nervous and Keith was suspicious that there was more to his statement. Maintaining self-discipline, Keith questioned him further.

“What for?”

Thace spared him with a sorrowful gaze as they came to an adjacent cell that had been left in a discrepant shape. Prisoners had quieted from receiving their rations but gave the towering soldier a loathing glance. Shoving Keith in, Thace checked the perimeters for nearby passerbys before leaning in, a sour expression on his face to fake disgust.

“You are to fight against other prisoners in the arena.” Keith sucked in a breath, he hadn't even thought there was a arena. “It's a fight to the death and there is no other alternative.” Thace stepped from him, the hatchway coming down with a leaden click. “I'm sorry Keith.”

He didn't look back. Keith hadn't expected him to.

 

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Keith had given up pacing in his cell and resorted on what had substituted as a bed. Which was a thin cot that was suspended to the side of the warped wall by a rusted over frame, creaking and practically useless for sleeping on. The hard surface made him bothered, as he sat up and rested his arms on his legs. Meditation couldn't mollify him now and he had been trapped in the tiny cubicle enclosure for hours. The slot of tempered glass let him watch from the inside to the outside but sentries didn't come by often except whenever there was a ruckus or handing out meager rations.

No one had been in the mood to engage in conversations from Keith speaking through the wall, so there was no intel produced. As day lengthened, the quieter it had gotten as if they were all drowning in the repressive silence.

Keith soon found out why.

The rummaging of clinking armor and footsteps entered, that incited anxiousness and choking weeps from the others. Keith was bewildered, as the troops filed to each cell, talking whichever one for what the guards joked as natural selection. A few put up resistance but by the stunning shocks their eyes became hazy and were handcuffed, subdued as they were left, hopeless.

A majority had resigned themselves to their new lifestyle, shuffling out and putting their hands to be cuffed, obedient to their daily routines.

All had a desperation in their eyes that caused Keith’s bewilderment to wither to horror. By the time they had stopped at his cell, they had inspected him and took Keith as another substitution, bringing him out as he was subjected to rough handling and then handcuffed. A few pried at his headpiece but it was auto-locked and wouldn't come off without his confirmation that had them all intrigued, including the detainees who shied away from him.

Anonymity wasn't taken well but for Keith it's all he had to save his identity.

With a gun at his back and soldiers on either side, he was brought to the front as he was in a better condition compared to the rest. While they marched he saw that there wasn’t Thace or Ulaz and felt a dull ache of sadness that Keith shoveled away. The guards talked among themselves about how it would be a good show with the newer addition that made Keith antsy.

Brought into a chasm that appeared to go on, they went through it, neon lights lining them as they came to the opening. A bluster had come to reach his ears, but not before reaching his heart first, causing it to thump hurriedly.

Chanting as if in a trance of a hive mind enveloped them, an audience awaited them as they had been halted to view what they were to be dumped in. Unceremoniously, they had been pushed out when their hands were unlocked, with mocked luck before the guards laughed to one another.

Keith felt like a goldfish in a bowl, that hadn't adapted to swimming and was flailing rapidly.

Surrounding them the convocation had erupted upon sighting the competitors and that's when Keith saw that from all sides there were tunnels that drained out a slew of captives, tumbling out into the open. At the brightened lights, it had them squinting through it, as Keith’s eyesight adjusted.

There had to be about a dozen or more combatants besides him and all were wearied, terrified that their knees were locking, quivering bodies. However Keith had rearranged himself and then came to a realization through his clarity. How were they supposed to fight when they didn't have weapons?

As if to answer his thoughts, a voice amplified with the motorized screech silenced them all, and Keith looked to the voice. No, it wasn't the Galran lord himself but an equally commendable man of higher rank and he saw that Thace was besides him, dutifully.

“It’s what you've and I've been waiting for! Where these opponents fight to the death!”

Roaring thrummed throughout his body and Keith readied himself into a stance. The sayings that had been spoken in times of frustration from his mentors were a distraction that brought him to tranquility.

A index finger was held up. “However there’s a catch!” The spectators lessened to a loud drone as the announcer shined a light down on him and Keith hand came up to shield the light that poured into his visor. The crowd had arose in noise when seeing the helmeted figure in civilian like clothing that seemed out of place compared to the more weathered beaten prisoners.

“It'll be different, something new!” The light swirled about the crowd to entice excitement although the crowd had been enraptured. “From Haggar’s request this young man won't be taking the normal tests to become a soldier of our glorious army but instead be fighting against these prisoners.” All the prisoners focused on him and Keith couldn't tell if they were going to take the opportunity to ambush or flee from him. Whichever it was, it wasn't favorable to both parties.

Suddenly there was clattering and Keith saw a collage of weapons that had been haphazardly hurled out to them from the tunnels they had left from. His eyes came upon a dagger that was approximately the size of his own and shifted towards it as the other prisoners were frozen.

A bulleted blast whizzed by his foot, missing it but was too precise and Keith peered up to see that it was Thace who had shot at him. His face was grainy and colder than granite that Keith had to look away, chest thumping.

Blended laughs exploded through the crowd and Keith felt sickened. This wasn't like when the individuals that had to be taken down by him, these were people that were being held hostage and didn't have as much experience with a blade like he did. An unfair fight that ultimately he would have to win. There would be no victors in this fight.

“Eager isn't he? Well when the signal goes off that's when you can move.” The voice taunted and Keith regulated his pulse, lax legs getting ready to sprint. The crowd was anticipating the fight, another comrade in arms, another blood battle with a conclusion. Either way they were getting a show.

Tuning out the clamor, Keith compounded his breathing with a hand coming up to his visor as it brightened and fixed onto the item.

All hadn't missed it and the inspector gave a low whistle and made a comment about it but it didn't matter to Keith. It would finish quicker this way.

The buzzer sent an alarm through him and he ran to the dagger, rolling when he got it and facing off to the other prisoners. Immediately, they scuttled from him, tripping over themselves and each other for the fear of his blade.

A plasma beam was deflected off the dualed trim of metal and his helmet spotted the others that had begun to run to the outer rim of the arena. The weapons had went from a jammed gun to a downgraded plasma cannon.

Which was the biggest offender, the alien far from him that had obtained the cannon.

Keith had to take him out before he turned into a threat and he sprinted towards the pillar, as his vision captured onto people that rushed at him.

One that couldn't wield a double-ended staff properly Keith had slashed at the neck before sidestepping to slash deep at an another’s major artery in the leg as screams of the crowd and the challengers merged to a din.

Multicolored blood splattered against his skin, blazing to freezing on his skin that Keith shut himself off to. His breathing was wild and frantic, his heart painful in his chest each time he breathed out.

One that wielded a gun launched a surprise attack with two others that had Keith twisting on his back to parry the gun upwards and slip under the long swords, letting his knife go into the abdomen of the ringleader and disposing of the remaining two who had faltered when seeing the gore, taking the sword in a swoop and running it through them. The pair flopped together in the sand, unmoving and could pass as if they were in a slumber if it weren't for the sword and pooling blood. Their bodies were wooden, like a doll’s. Keith wrenched himself away from it.

A glutinous creature blocked him off from going further, it's skin impermeable to his attacks as its skin was poisonous and dissolved anything that came into contact with it. Whenever it was cut into, it came back into itself.

Some of its skin seared through the fabric, the sizzling dripping into the sanded ground as Keith recuperated behind a column. Hissing at a wound his foot hit a body that he jolted from. It had the worst weapon, a stick. Sliding the knife in his pocket as short ranged attacks wouldn’t do much, he would make do with his resources.

Thinking, Keith took a wooden spear from one of the massacred victim and stabbing through its nervous system, through its spinal cord and cerebellum. It evaporated into the ground, and Keith threw the stick down, dagger in a slickened-hot hand.

The crowd was deafening and was ravenous for more, more blood, more death and Keith saw that the prisoners started offing themselves in self-slaughter in merciful death from how he was advancing. A booing in the audience mixed with the jeers that the commentator keyed in on.

“We can't have that now! Send in a few more prisoners!” The stands acceded as the victims were to be chosen as Keith dealt with the ones hadn't quit yet.

An alien of average build confronted him and had more experience compared to the others. Their undoing was prevalent when Keith feinted to the side and swept his feet under them, while Keith drove it to the hilt to puncture into their lungs. Keith wasn’t invincible, wasn't left unscathed as he had taken collateral damage from their slicing.

Somehow the shooter hadn't made his mark on Keith, overshooting but used it to his assets, misplacing his shots for chunks of pillars to rain down in hopes of killing Keith.

Yet Keith darted through to where the alien was. Leg extended, he used to momentum to peg it upwards and in as the dagger stayed as a final resting place in his chest. Keith took the cannon from him, the trigger still humid and cocked.

Lining his vision with it, he gunned down the prisoners that had trickled out, in streams. When they had begun to hide themselves, Keith used the rubble to his benefits, taking a molecular sword to thrust cleanly through a pillar that made it collapse as well as a pair of aliens.

Wave after wave it was endless as Keith had to recuperate through several parts in the tournament, pain becoming a motivator for his exhaustion and morals.

Eventually, Keith stood, a burn on his left leg and a myriad of cuts to his arms. Overall partially battered, but he continued to stand tall, singular around the decimated bodies.

There was doubled from what had been before and Keith rubbed at the blood that had cooled on him through his gloves and layers of clothes. The horde was cheering, approval ringing out as the mass raised fists and voices, maddening.

“It's safe to say that this warrior has won. Maybe this new soldier can be a regular here?”

Upon saying that the word stuck and the crowd repeated it in a untiring rhythm. _Warrior, warrior, warrior—_

Keith then looked up. He knew that he had to be pleased with his accomplishments. However all he could offer was an barely there nod that sent them in a clamor and soon Keith was fetched by Thace who had the orders of the superior to take him to the infirmary and get him suited to his relocation.

 

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The walk was taken in short silence. It was needed. After all what could have been said after that display; Keith delving into his head that hadn't switched off from autopilot yet. His pulse still too fast, irregular.

“Keith. You did well.” The praise was a condolence that Thace could offer but knew it didn't have much purpose after what Keith had to act in. Putting a gel substance that mended his wounds quicker than the recuperation pods, Keith sat atop an examination table as Thace had gotten him a uniform that him officiated him in of the army.

Being a part of what had been done, all from his own hands. Keith couldn't look at his hands, much less himself. An emptiness had sat in him from what had transpired, something he couldn’t deal with correctly and wouldn’t go away until he acknowledged it.

A fleeting whiteness filled the space between them and Thace knew that Keith was in turmoil like he had been.

“The tests I had to take were akin to yours.” That made Keith glance at him, of as his skin itched when he rubbed off the still wet gore that his hands were caked in.

“How did you do it?” Keith said after a stilted hesitation and Thace studied him before handing him a towel as Keith took off his headgear to wipe at the sweaty locks to his neck that had been insulated by the helmet. The infirmary was one of the blind spots in monitoring, and Keith’s face was blistering from being in the helmet for so long.

“I maintained focus on the end goal. There are too many things depending on us if we die now. We can't afford failure, not when the universe is in constant peril.” The words were directed to reconcile the anguish and guilt Keith had accumulated but Keith whipped off the towel, smears of colors on it.

Keith remarked, “To sacrifice for the greater good right? Those people were innocent, some couldn't use the weapons properly,” His voice was wavering, eyes blazing, and Thace understood him wholeheartedly.

Picking up the military uniform, Thace stood up looking around then back to Keith.

“As are the many other people on the planets that Zarkon has enslaved.” Keith had slipped his helmet over his head the AC insulation bringing relief to his overworked body. “Keith, you had to do it as we all had too—Ulaz and I. His stare followed Keith’s who didn't look like he was listening, the stars more spectacular the farther they went from the bay window. “Those who were killed will be honored when we take down Zarkon and his reign, their sacrifices will not be forgotten. They won't be forgotten.” A hand found his limp arm for comfort and Keith took it, curling his fingers to it.

All he could do was hold on, process it later. The emptiness had lessened, something draining him.

“Tomorrow you'll start your training, basic orders and such. They've deemed you above labor tasks.” Thace informed him and Keith just nodded. It was the only thing his body allowed at the moment.

 

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After a while, Thace took him to a room, not the cell, in the barracks of trainees. No one was awake as Thace opened the door. It was a generic room, a dusty bed near to the wall and a tiny desk and chair next to it lined by the wall. Thace stood by the door as Keith took a glimpse at what would be his home for an indefinite while.

Above the bed was a keyhole of a window, that Keith would probably be staring out of in due time. It was a little, out of place thing that shouldn’t have mattered or made a difference, but the thought of it made Keith feel better. A small comfort for him to have when he wanted to escape.

No one else would be there with him as Thace had twisted some connections and Keith was grateful for that. It was closest to the showers and bathroom and the room was covert.

“You'll have to report early in the morning. Try to rest.” Thace endorsed to him when Keith took the uniform from him. “Good luck.” That was his goodnight as he was gone and Keith was left alone. Dislodging the helmet, he set it on the side of the desk. Dragging the chair over to his door to lock it into place, Keith collapsed onto the bed.

The uniform bounced with the movement like an intrusive thought that prodded at Keith. Staring at the emblem that was manufactured into it, Keith set it somewhere out of his sights and dug himself into the sheets to forgo the destruction that had stained his hands, seeping through his gloves that he couldn't take off for fear of discovery and another fear: whether the blood had bleed into his skin.

Sleep did not come fast enough. When it did, Keith willingly fell into it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EDIT: Rewatching Voltron, I saw some inconsistencies with the ship so I corrected it. And also grammatical and punctuation errors to boot!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey so this is probably gonna be a longer chapter because there's a lot I gotta cover and it doesn't quite work to split it into two parts, or that's just me being lazy. 
> 
> Anyway here's to Keith because my boy is gonna go through stuff too like Shiro (my other boy that I love very much). I think this may be the hardest chapter for me to write because exposition isn’t really my forte but I’m going to make a valid attempt!

Waking up at dawn where the cosmos were the most breathtaking, Keith groaned as the adrenaline had wanned to how entirely burnt out he was.

Sleep had done a sensational job at rejecting him and Keith had gotten three hours at most and those had been short hours.

Imagery of splattering colors and outcries had made it overpowering, keeping him up with its vividness. Keith wasn't so sure he wanted to go back to sleep, putting his feet off the bed and eying the helmet sitting on his bedside table. Hearing the bustle from outside his door, he pulled on the ill-fitting uniform, meant for a Galra of an standardized sizing but it would be sufficient for the moment.

Latching his headgear on, he made his way on out and trailed after the cadets, attempting for naturalness as Keith could despite his stature that made him feel microscopic against the others. It didn't help that he was shorter than most of them.

The mentor had lead them into a spacious vicinity as they then lined up. Of course, Keith was at the dead last of the line while he ignored the strange glances sent his way from his drastic size deviation. Whispers were exchanged until the man in the vanguard harrumphed.

“You are to be part of something greater than you could ever amount to.” The words had haunting parallels to Thace’s, Keith had thought. All had arranged themselves to be as presentable to the mentor who leisurely strolled up the rows. His boot buckles jingled as he put his shoe in front of the other.

“But that doesn't mean that you can skip basics because of a test. Basics are essential! If you want to serve Lord Zarkon you must be the best.”

The obstreperous voice was coming nearer and Keith knew that he wouldn't be spared especially when the others began to stare at him. Boots squeaked as the higher up stopped in front of him. The mentor was from the tournament, the commentator, and Keith bristled. He differed from when his voice had been amplified, less authoritative. But he made it up with height, being the tallest Galra he'd seen yet, two feet taller or more from his heeled boots.

“Ah the newest soldier!” A hand gesture was made in a grandiose style as some of the recruits openly stared at him now. “The tourney was a thrill, you were favorited although you have to wait your turn to see one...” Then his eyes lowered to take in the quality of his clothing and Keith could tell that he was about to be reprimanded.

“Yet this isn't how a soldier should look like.” His nose sniffed, distasteful. “Or smell.” Then he spun on his heels, back to the forefront. “I expect better tomorrow. Since it’s your first day and I know what you’re made of, I’ll let you off with a subtraction in recreational time.”

Keith’s entire self was mortified, a boiling heat on his face that spread out to his ears. A few people besides him snickered under their breaths before coughing when the instructor looked to them.

Well aware that he was being put on a pedestal despite it being the first day, Keith would have to take the favoritism whether he wanted too. Although Keith was the first to have a deduction in privileges it wouldn't matter because he had gotten praised as well, which canceled out the punishment in the judgement of others. At least that's what Keith had reasoned, to himself.

Favoritism would contribute in the long run as they marched, the lines and measures were off and while they were being snapped at. Keith had a hunch that it would be a very lengthy process.

Initially, it began with a mandatory formula, stamina exercises being the first ones. It was a variety from running, to pain resistance, to environmental training that were completed in intervals. Which was a tedious process, relentless. Formulated from virtual stimulation, it didn't mean that it was any less real like the blow that would have his ribs bruised.

The other pupils had seemed to shy from him, and Keith didn't mind. Being ostracized was a given, when he was in top rankings or pushed into the spotlight. Keith couldn't afford to be demoted or punishments could cause catastrophe.

At the end of environmental training they had taken a mid-break to clean up that converged into their lunchtime. Particles of dirt and plant matter had muddied his uniform and Keith blew out air, his body riddled with soreness from the exertion he had endured yesterday and today, Keith was running on fumes. When coming back from their break time, he saw a paper and picked it up, a new suit on his pillow.

Be ready after this

Sometimes, Keith wished that the members of their institution wouldn't be as cryptic as they were.

From the scrawl he could tell it was Thace and Keith put it under his pillow and went to take the uniform as the other male trainees had begun to leave.

A muffled thud made his pulse rate spike, his belly jerking from it. Glancing over, Keith recognized what had fallen. On the floor was his dagger, a consolation from home. His wheezing inhale was let out slowly and he went over to it, slotting it into his pillowcase.

When the showers were unoccupied, he washed himself in under five minutes, slathering the soap and astringent products in his hair.

His side pulsed and the reddening skin would be painful in the days after, his hand covering over it, internally berating himself for his slip up. The environmental activity had been brutal to Keith, a rock had rammed into him when they were wading in the water section.

Soap suds stung his eyes and Keith braced through it, as he washed off in the frigid water as the hot water had been hogged beforehand. Blessedly, no one had disturbed him as he donned the outfit. There was a equivalence from his old clothing, coal-black, without the fixtures on it. Devoid of characteristics Keith had a premonition to what it resembled.

Stripping someone of their character to reduce them to melding into a idealized paragon, a tactic of how the army was reforming them, to take identities, rewrite and rearrange.

Keith wasn’t deterred as he put the helmet on, not having sufficient time to dry his hair as it clumped at his nape. He knew who he was and they couldn't take that from him.

 

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Lunch had been uneventful. Minus the chattering and curious to covetous staring, Keith had taken some food to his room and downed the wretched edibles.

Vile in texture and to his tastebuds, he hacked before downing it with a bland liquid type of drink.

It wasn't much different from the food he had in the cell, although the proportions were more plentiful and there was some variation where he felt that for the prisoners it was the same square meals each day.

Despite that Keith had been in detention for less than a day, during that he had felt the palpable despondency in those hours. A twinge of sympathy sat with him until he trashed it.

Getting back to the instructional grounds, Keith saw that many were coming back from their break and Keith got back in position, in the very front due to his size and the order they had been reorganized in.

When they had all assembled, there were approaching strides as they stood to attention as their next instructor stood, hands behind his back, pragmatic. Keith looked straight ahead as Thace went past him.

Thace reviewed their postures, correcting them with punishments and when everyone was to his satisfaction he paired them up with the person to their left. Never did he get too close where Keith was, although Keith knew that he was keeping tabs on him.

His partner was reluctant, as they were doing the rudiments, hand to hand combat. Both stood at the opposite sides, waiting for the other to make a move.

Minutes passed and Keith knew the other was being polite, which was uncommon. Keith took the first move, an upper jab to the chin, the Galra groaning from the smash.

Retracting his hand, Keith let the other regain his stability as a annoyed smile made his way to his face.

Keith hadn't expected that and a foot came to his inner leg in an attempt to floor him. From that, Keith had to credit him for the maneuver, as his vision toppled sideways.

His disadvantage was that he wasn't as heavy but because of that Keith had more agility, as Keith’s leg easily came up to knee him because the placing was off too high, and he pinned the alien to the mat, contorting his body.

Still not dissuaded, the Galra used his hips to buck him off and Keith was bucked off but got back on his feet, crouching.

Not before having a kick to his side, firmly, where his ribs had taken abuse from the earlier stimulation.

From that Keith inhaled, and wobbled and the other saw it.

“Hey you—”

Time was called and Keith took his leave to the next lesson, Thace glimpsing at him and then to his side but made no other indication. Keith brushed it off, his partner shuffling from foot to foot.

The next one was upped a level to where they were granted weapons but there was a downside, both had to take down a fighting bot. His partner appeared to be remorseful, as Keith took the bayard, finding the weight of the sword likeable while the other had taken an energy rifle.

“About what happened—”

“Forget about it.” Keith severed through his apology as the druid had activated. The other’s mouth gaped open at his audacity before clamping down in a scowl.

Keith had already moved, rotating his position. While the two cornered the android, it took a lunge at the other, the barrel of the gun intercepting the attack.

While that happened Keith took the prospect to afflict a blow to the droid but it had raised its forearm, a shield materializing and Keith rebounded from it. In an upheaval, it simultaneously had lobbed Keith off and swept the staff into the trainee.

Slamming into Keith, they both went into a pile with twin groans. Keith pushed him off of his ribs, praying that there was no fracturing, and the trainee cringed, a nick on his cheek to his lower chin that went diagonal.

Gingerly he had a hand to his face before glancing at Keith, accusatory. Though he couldn't see Keith’s eyes the other felt his disparaging outlook on him.

The bot was programmed to give downed combatants a minute’s worth of reprieve and Keith was going to use that time to get situated. Thace had been getting onto them, docking points to their combined and individual scores as the others around were succeeding in half the time they were doing.

Taking him by the shoulder, Keith whipped him to his side suddenly that the couldn’t stop the startled look the Galran had. Mauve blood threaded on his face and onto his uniform while he scrubbed at the scratch.

Keith took a breath. “Look—if we fail this teamwork exercise those are permanent marks on both our records. So let's have an actual strategy before we both fail,” Keith admonished, forcing both of them to duck as the staff came swinging over their heads. The droid backed up, calculating their compositions, and what they would do next.

The alien seemed to argue with himself before turning to him. “Okay, what do you propose?” Keith let himself grin, though the other couldn't see it.

Putting as much distance between them and the robot they exchanged positions and concocted a strategy.

Talking it through and signaling one another to confuse the intelligent interface because some of it was nonsensical, some of it code. Interfaces were smart enough but couldn’t tell when they were about to be tricked as it began to proceed what they were saying rather than what they were doing. Multitasking was a great way to overload it, along with stupidness.

As they neared the robot, they threw their equipment up, making a mad dash as Keith slid across the floor to the adjacent side while his partner was a decoy to the android.

Grabbing the energy gun, he launched a shot as the Galra had taken his bayard and slashed downwards. It had been propelled from the ray and had powered down when being striked. A timer had oscillated onto its screen and gave them a score that was passing, a tad above average.

The other male flashed a grin and Keith was just happy they had passed as Thace had taken them to the side for their tally.

A strict expression scoured them and for Keith, it was Thace scolding him because he knows of his potential and that he was squandering it.

There was a transparent pad was in his hand as he scrolled through the listings and Keith could read off the points taken, a jab at him when seeing more minuses rather than the plusses.

“Your methods were brash and heretical and at first there was no communication which would result from point reduction,” Keith knew that Thace had to be convincing but he prayed that he wouldn’t make them do it again, his ribs couldn't handle it. Thace switched off the digital device, “But it was team coordination and you managed to communicate and complete with an adequate score.”

Seeing that as passing, they both let out exhales as Thace advised them to go to the infirmary for medical treatment. Yet Keith declined, and Thace speared him with a scalding look.

Snagging a translucent bag instead, Keith leaned against a wall letting the air that puttered inside his helmet fanned over his face as the alien came out, stitching to his cheek. His eyes blinked in astonishment when seeing Keith and the beverage that was thrown to him.

“So…” Keith gathered his words for phrasing, “uh—sorry ‘bout your face.” That was exactly how he wanted it to go.

“...Thanks?” Keith didn’t say ‘you’re welcome’ because that would be inappropriate and there wasn’t anything to receive. Instead he sticked around.

Sipping at it he then crunched it in his hand when he finished, “Seems like they can’t do anything for this lost cause—well I was a lost cause to begin with.” The alien joked to him and Keith suppressed a snort.

Walking from him Keith looked back, his standpoint portraying hostility to get his memo across.

“Listen,” Keith started, “I’m not your friend. It was just for the exercise so don’t get the wrong idea.”

The cadet didn't appear to be insulted, “Sorry man thought the juice box was a token of your friendship. Guess I was wrong because it’s actually a pity gift.” His usage of humor was odd but Keith didn't think anything of it as he went back to the training room.

 

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When retiring to his corridors, Keith found a medipack on his desk. Which he stuck to his swollen skin that was becoming more of a welt from neglect. It was probably from Thace, and not from the ‘partner’. It worried away in his mind as the pain subsided.

While nursing his bruised ribs, Keith outlined the little window to the outside, for solace. The sky flickered and Keith wondered how long it would take for some stars to become black holes, imploding in on itself.

Afterwards in the hours of night, there was a knock at his door. Taking his helmet he put it on his head before going over to the opening and toeing the chair from it. Cracking the door open, Keith let out a sigh.

Letting Ulaz in, the other stood by the wall from the door, while Keith took off the equipment. His hair was a tangled mess as he racked it with his fingers before peering over to Ulaz.

“Thace couldn't come?”

“No he's caught up with a commanding officer. Afterall he's more of a higher up in the department. The only reason why they let him teach was because he actively volunteered.” A grunt as Keith kicked his legs up, closing his eyes.

“So…” Ulaz gave him a smile that reeked of cheeriness, “how was your first day infiltrating the cavalry?” Cracking open an eye, Keith moved, plucking at his shirt.

“How do you think?” Keith peeled the congealed packet off his side and chucked it in the bin.

The discoloration had receded and the accompanying throbbing had dithered off. A splotch of a bump was what had been left. Flipping his shirt down, Keith tossed the helmet between his hands before settling it onto his lap.

“Rough first time, huh?” The glare that met him made Ulaz chuckle and he came over to Keith to sit on the ledge of the mattress with him.

Keith's hands tightened over the hood of the helmet, the polish having minuscule scuff marks from the manhandling it had taken over the years. Ulaz was someone that listened to his ramblings ever since childhood, so Keith did just that. “I was totally incompetent today and then I'm suddenly favorited. And probably everyone else hates me for that. Way to be discreet,” Keith said and Ulaz raised a brow. Keith let another sigh billow out, eyebrows scrunching up.

“I don't see it as much as a bad thing. The further up the ranks you are, the more respect and knowledge you'll gain. Not just from your superiors.” Ulaz said and Keith took it into consideration before frowning.

“I'm not here to make friends Ulaz.” Ulaz shrugged at him before taking the helmet from him.

Rotating with it, he tinkered with the settings as Keith watched him his chin on his hands. After minor customizations he hummed, pleased. Handing it back the Galra gave him a pat on the back, homey and pleasantly warm that Keith couldn't help himself, leaning into it.

“You don't have to make friends Keith but it’ll be easier to have someone who's going through hardships as you are.” The helmet beeped, and there was a fluorescent plum coloring as it recharged as Keith put it aside.

“Keep your identity safe.”

It was a definite risk to not have the helmet on at all times, even in the confines of his room, but nonetheless Keith nodded, his hand slipping into his sheets to pull out his cutlass that the older saw.

Ulaz smile grew, “After I handed it to Thace I wondered when you would get this. It's a good thing that they force new recruits to do their own laundry.” Putting a clawed hand over his, Thace gripped it as he looked to Keith. “Never forget your identity.” A thumb nudged over the sigil and Ulaz eye’s softened.

“Your heart is as Galran is mine.”

Keith let out a seeping shudder and there was upturn of lips, Keith’s hand taking the blade into both of his.

“Thanks for the pep talk.”

The smile that Ulaz left him promised that there would be more in the near future. Somehow, Keith didn't find that all too bad.

 

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After a handful in months, there had been a transition into piloting. Keith was had internalized anticipation when seeing the aerial structures again. An expansion of space had been opened for them for test flights, as they went to the rookie example that was out for observation purposes only, with a no touching policy.

Predictably it was banged up and unrepaired that it couldn't be capable of flying again. Keith felt pity for the machine, but from how the rust had weeded its way inside there was no hope for it, unless miracles did exist.

The unnamed alien hadn’t spoken to him again, though there were times when Keith could have but never acted on the impulse. Keith couldn't tell if he was using his identity as an excuse for avoiding interaction. Keith wasn’t the best at conveying himself.

Instead they let him drift like a ghost, soundless but had a noticeable presence and Keith pondered if the alien had told rumors about him. Though he didn't care if people stayed away from him the less likely it would be for him to be compromised as his headgear already made him an easy candidate to single out.

Heading to the hanger a rather tout commander was assigning them to planes, explaining the modules in a plodding tone as Keith was half-listening.

Not because he's practically read about it and actually piloted a few but something kept blanking him out. As if he was detaching from reality, and he was somewhere else in another reality that wasn't anything or nothing. Just existing. But something was still connecting him there, to it.

A clawing had seized him and he hadn't experienced it so strongly before and he searched for it. The clawing had laid dormant since he had left the base but now it was stronger than before, willing himself to find what had been lost, discarded.

Which he did. Eyesight flitting around, his helmet pinged and he saw what it indicated.

In the loftiest corner for aircrafts, was an architecture of a lion, a safeguard of hexagonal shapes around it and he wondered how exactly had he missed it. Keith had been to the hanger a couple of times before from extended privileges (courtesy of Thace) and the occasional sneaking out, but hadn't seen the lion before.

“—cadet! What are you looking at?” The metronomic emphasis made him blink to the instructor who didn't look at all pleased. The rest of the group conversed amid themselves as they then spotted the lion.

“I—I never saw that before,” he said, staring back to the mountainous structure and got a guffaw.

“That scrap heap is eons old. Older than even me, haha! Lord Zarkon didn't know what to do with it after the Red Paladin died. So it's been moving around since it takes up too much space, the old piece of junk. A shame too it would sell for some bucks...”

With that statement, the stout alien went back to his speaking, though several of the things he had said were incorrect. Some of the smarter cadets clued in and were looking around too, eyes rummaging through. Keith tried to refocus although the man began to take out his pamphlet of instructions and he had given up interest as well as any respect Keith was suppose to have for him.

Then Keith jolted, feeling something indescribable, as if a tremor had went through him. There was a roar, loud that it made his ears ring, limbs vibrating that reconnected him.

Keith’s breathing seemed to stop, his brain having a malfunction as it buffered. Did it just roar to him? No, a old machine that's been offline for millenniums couldn't talk much less a robotic lion to a half human and Galra. The lion's eyes seemed to follow him and Keith was compelled to go towards it, his body in motion.

As the man drilled in useless misinformation, Keith had went over to it until he could reach out, a surge to touch it, come into any contact with it. When he was in front of it, he could take in how astoundingly huge it was to him, awestruck.

Hibernating, it's proud planes were ethereal, battle scars from its crusades that had Keith admiring the craftsmanship that had been poured into it and how it had been able to withstand existence for so long. The sculpting facets that made out its countenance sloped to a profusion in hues. Bolts kept it together, but Keith felt that there was a unforeseen thing and that was what kept it existing and asleep.

A distinction were the eyes, by far they were the things that set it apart from anything else, as if there was a definite soul inside of it—and there was the low roar again. However it sounded, softer—nearer to an invitation to come closer. Body moving, Keith’s foot was nearly inside of the barrier.

Extending a hand he—

“Cadet get back here unless you want to be booted off! That's property that rightfully belongs to Lord Zarkon and unless you yourself want to explain to him why you're doing that—” From a few minutes ago Keith would have thought he was referring to space debris.

The rumbling in his head seemed angered and without breaking eye contact Keith put his hand to it, the instructor still in the middle of his rant. It hadn't even occurred to Keith to listen, as if something had pulled him forward, compelling him to do it.

Yet his hand went through, Keith stumbling in with a gasp. It was an instant placebo effect, as it shattered; its eyes flickering with computerized spirit and Keith couldn't look from it, mesmerized. Locomotive, it arose rather janky as if arising from a prolonged nap.

The others gasped and made exclamations that weren't heard over when the lion roared, Keith's regalia whipping around as it bowed over him, a sunlike intensity letting him see his own reflection. In that instance, the clawing inside him had been replaced with a complacent rumble and Keith had found the calling from those years ago.

The others were heading over to Keith and then there was a panic—

The robot mammal overshadowed him and he saw the unhinging jaws of the beast envelope him and then he was tumbling down into a darkness.

His elbow had been pushed by a ladder that had him curse, bone tingling, and he landed a quarter on his back before he could think on what was happening. His train of thought had derailed: he had been eaten by a robotic lion.

Coruscating, the interior lighting came back to life and Keith found a balance in inertia. Keith had himself turned over in a seat, righting himself and his helmet. An onslaught of numbers and letters met his eyes that was spiraling in too quickly.

The buttons were in a flurry of colors and at the moment Keith was overwhelmed, still not thinking through what was happening presently. Keith was prepared but not enough to be ingested today, or try and pilot a giant lion.

“Okay—uh—” his hands hadn't meant to go to the controls but when it did Galra tech flared up, a lavender to the transparencies of aquamarines and frantic sequencing between that.

Even his helmet couldn't ward off an interference, the technology transferring through it and taking up his vision and he didn't knew of it was there in front of him or in his head because there was a titanic mecha consisting of five parts, five lions—

Other pilots? Voltron? What did it mean exactly—Keith never heard nor seen a intergalactic robot of lions before. It was too lucrative, as if snatched out of someone’s imagination. More like a kid had imagined it from the concept of lions becoming a robot.

When Keith was taken out of his thoughts, it was as if he had been awoken from dreaming from how clouded over his head was, a lull in the back of his mind. But he knew it was far from it, the rumbling increasing until he knew it wasn't from the ears and that he was only hearing it.

His mind was interlocked with the interface, as his arms propelled and the lion leapt forward, overshooting but on all fours. Blinking, Keith pulled his arms back and peeking through the tempered glass.

An aircraft had been crunched underfoot, the lion’s tail whacking into another as Keith turned to surmise what was happening and made a valiant attempt to put an end to it. Angry fire detonated soon after and the cadets had chosen to evacuate, yelling and soldiers began to flood in.

After that the a siren had been rung, the lights repeating itself in a code too critical for him to dwell on as Keith didn't know what to do. The aircrafts were extraordinarily expensive and took too much time to build, and they were down two of them in seconds with corresponding explosions.

“Oh, shoot,” Keith muttered as there went an explosion, another fighter plane being wrecked from the paw of the lion making the total to three. The lion didn't care, claws into the floor of the ship, letting out another growl. “This makes it all the more better.”

Flanking him, soldiers took cover from the floors of where the other spacecrafts were, and Keith was cut off. Guns were trained at him, safety off.

“Stand down!” The explosion sounded off but it was from rampant gunfire that had been thrown at Keith. The barrage made alerts pop up and the blue went to a advisory red, as Keith went to shut them down, confused.

Gritting his teeth from taking the hits, Keith looked up. “A little help would be nice!” No response was given and Keith floundered over the control board. "Okay how do I...” he gave the controls another once over before grasping at the handles.

Eyes darting over the selection of windows he then looked to his hands, as the ceasefire had faded and the static in his comm had too, leaving Keith undisturbed.

From his rational side, he was positive that the machinery had been the culprit of that.

Concentrating, he focused at his hands and then it worked, as if a light switch had been switched on. An transmittable feeling came over him when Keith did so he took it as a signal to do what he was doing.

“Maybe if I do this...” Pulling the steering handles forward the lion went through with the movement and Keith smirked to himself. “Alright!” The soldiers were at a stand still as the lion gave a bounding leap, and vaulted out of the flight path and into space. In that moment of free-falling, he let himself fall. Then he pulled up fast, almost falling out of his seat but had hinged his legs to the chair. 

From the returning happiness of being able to fly, Keith could forget the damage that had been done without any guilt.

Bubbling out of his loosening chest Keith laughed, ecstatic as an electrolyze elation jumped through him. From the sensation, he wasn't the only one that had the sameself sentimentalities.

Maneuvering the spacecraft from his skills of a pilot, it came swimmingly, ebbing and flowing, feeding into his head.

Freedom had never been sweeter, as he somersaulted in the universe inverting with him, before figure-eighting through a star cluster. Although Keith was inside, he never felt closer to the world. Keith could almost catch a star, he could travel the solar system if he wanted to. The possibilities were infinite and so was space and if Keith were a lesser person he might have taken the world up on the possibility.

Yet it would have to wait, because then a screen had chosen to materialize, a soldier appearing that got Keith out of his reverie.

“From Lord Zarkon commands, you are to report to the ship. At this moment. If not we are to forcibly obtain you, cadet.”

Then Keith was left in a void of silence. The rumbling in the outermost innards of his mind had been brought to a diminishing dissemination and the excitement had failed him, when Keith registered that he might have been compromised by his own self.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The only reason I added that training montage was because plot progression and that Keith is a stickler. And that even in outer space they have group assignments haha. 
> 
> This chapter finished rather sloppily so I may go back and revise it (like I always do). All my chapters are beta-d by me so they may have mistakes. Shiro will be in the next chapter I promise that.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was hard to crank out and develop because of time management (surprisingly not the discourse bc I'm too mellowed to deal with that) but I got through that.
> 
> Also this chapter is dialogue heavy (apologies) but it's for exposition sake, I promise! Also sorry for any of the grammatical/punctuation mistakes it's 2 am cut me some slack

The connection hadn't fizzled out but it had curtailed considerably while Keith weighed the scales of justice in his head.

Falling back into the seat, Keith let go of the thrusters and let his mind wander.

On one side he could blast off into outer space which meant he would be going off the map from everyone, because if he met Zarkon as he was now, it wouldn't be the best thing he could do. Also, there were the soldiers that could gun him down and it would be unwise not to go back.

But on the other, if he met Zarkon, there was a slimmer chance that he could persuade him for his life without compromising himself and the operation. Although that was a low percentage if he could get to persuading.

All conclusions made it imminent that he would have to encounter Zarkon one way or another. The scales had tipped over because there was no way for it to have equilibrium, if ever.

Keith couldn't be selfish, life wouldn't allow him to be. Ulaz—Thace wouldn't allow it, and there were others depending on him. So why did it feel that he was doing the wrong thing?

When life gave him a chance Keith could never really take it, waggling it out in front of him.

Life wasn’t unfair, it gave too choices at indecisiveness. It took advantage of that weakness, a road not taken. But at the moment, Keith cursed at how unfair life was.

The trepidation could be from the lion itself, that it was making him think that there was something more to his life, as Keith put a gloved hand over a thruster. There was a thermal heater under his fingers, heightened from it. Calmness came over him, confirming the sentience existing in the medium and that it was filtering into his emotions, uncertainly.

Letting out a hefty sigh, he reversed, going back to the awaiting ship. Dotted on the airway were troops, banks of armor shone out and Keith had never felt so tired of looking at the color purple.

Being surrounded by the color had made Keith a bit standoffish. It was no longer a color he associated close to home, the serene shades becoming harsher from how he saw it. He didn't need to remember home in a such a facsimile, bleak formality.

When the robot’s maw opened, Keith had been standing up, being as nonchalant as he could when coming down from the ramp. There was no gunfire, no questioning that then had Keith uneasy. He would rather take the noise than the perturbing quietude.

An armada of foot troops had swarmed around the lion as it had returned to stasis, eyes logging off. Keith was partly tempted to go back to the robot but decided against that. As soon as his feet met solid ground, soldiers were escorting him, with their weapons out still. It was a spelled out the threat, _‘Do anything and we_ will _shoot you.’_ If at all, Keith thought it was unnecessary to go that far. Where else could he go anyway with guns at him from all angles?

Most of the soldiers were circumspective of him, clearing when he came through and had the audacity to speak about him as if he wasn't within hearing distance. The remaining soldiers had converged on the robot, but a barrier had been up before they could go near it. It didn't stop them as they poked at the protective shield. A plasma ray went out and ricocheted off, and Keith smirked as they backed away.

Walking, Keith saw that several cadets were still around, talking when seeing him among the soldiers, and Keith knew that if his identity wasn't compromised than his reputation had been. Word would soon be traveling when the soldiers barked to the underclass, as they fled from them.

Two guards got him into an elevator, lining him as they went up in silence. Keith stared between them, before staring a hole through the see through floor. Keith could see the multiple floors that they were passing through and it appeared that he was going all the way up. Keith peered to see what was happening on each floor.

It was a hierarchical scale, the prisoners bottom of the chain, then from the classes of soldiers that went up to their ruler. That's how it had been for from the months that Keith had been onboard, recognizing the systematics of it. It was a broken system from the chained order that had been exploited from the times he had been assigned for cleanup duty that had been three weeks worth, and the mistreatment of army members and prisoners alike.

Reformation and conversion was what they were striving for, and several had been manipulated by it. A minuscule difference, but from an outsider's perspective it was as if it were a cult, similar uniforms, same blanketed ideals to be swaddled in.

Fresh faces, fresh minds to make privy to.

While it was taking a good amount of time, Keith recollected himself over the insanity that happened in the previous hour. Keith still couldn't quite believe that he had flown in a robotic animal and that said robotic animal could understand him and he could understand it. Not verbally but conveyed it better than speaking from projected emotions and images.

It was all too bizarre when Keith pieced it together because what correlation did he have to it. Why did it choose him? Was it the feeling he felt in those lost years?

Then it came to a jarring stop that made them falter, his thinking broken off, as the elevator opened for them. It was wide enough that all could step out, though Keith had to be between the two.

Keith was hauled into the cavernous vicinity, the two guards directing him to a disc. Above him were pedestals seemingly suspended in midair, from what Keith deduced that it wasn't technology but alchemy from witchcraft. Keith thought it was impractical that there had to have a throne up there, as if he couldn't get more imperious. As if he didn't own enough planets and countless races. Getting onto the plate, Keith started to rise up when the guards had left him.

While ascending, Keith’s nervousness unfolded. Already his brain was fabricating things for Zarkon, mostly to not die when explaining how’d he’d done what he had.

Until it came to a stop. Atop of the summit was Lord Zarkon, Haggar at his side. Keith frowned when he saw her again and he could tell that the witch had similar views. Although the witch seemed triumphant while Zarkon seemed indifferent.

Keith took steps onto the platform that lead to the throne. Corresponding lights highlighted the throne in a flush fuchsia. Keith had seen Zarkon by the confidential information from the members of the organization, and those pesky PSAs around the mothership but the images couldn't replicate the tyrannical nature that his eyes held. The fuchsia disappeared in the blacks of his irises, as Zarkon focused on him.

With Keith’s arrival, Zarkon spoke out.

“Leave Haggar.” The crone seemed to disapprove with his order, but left without a sound, as if she became the shadows. Keith’s skin crawled at that. As they had been left alone, Keith had taken strides, staying a respectable distance from the overseer of worlds. The emperor sat on his throne, observing Keith that made him apprehensive.

His eyes weren’t yellow but the color of Galran blood, glinting in the lights from the reflecting glass. Outer space surrounded them in an dome, though the stars couldn’t be a comfort to Keith now.

“I know that you are human,” it never occurred to Keith that the overlord would know his identity but Haggar was his servant after all. It was probably the first thing that she had told him. A pause and Keith realized that Zarkon was waiting for him to speak up.

“It doesn't change that I'm part Galran,” Keith rebutted and the king was amused by him. The way the glint in his eyes watched him was what Keith had to go by that he was evil, that he made prisoners do those menial things to survive. Keith disliked the condescending gaze and made himself to appear and act respectfully.

The alien put both taloned hands to his throne, in absolute leisure. In complete control, his world was of prestige and supremacy and it was Keith’s job to dismantle it. Keith was going to look forward in doing that. Vengeance was already placed in his hands as it was, and now that Keith realized it, he had gained an upper hand from the robot.

“I heard that you survived the arena. Perhaps it's time to change the requirements for entertainment.” Keith’s insides seesawed at that. Recurring vividness of the tournament did stay with him, when he was defenseless in the dark, when sleep couldn't bring him to respite. Keith countered it with taking it out through therapeutic things, stargazing being his favored pastime when waking up on those nights.

Keith had fallen silent.

In a knife fight he still couldn't take Zarkon down and that irked him. Unlike the prisoners in the ring, Zarkon probably made the ring, sitting atop of it which Keith couldn't bring him down from, not now. In the meanwhile Keith would have to go through hoops from how Zarkon was speaking at him. The king reclined back, watching him.

“Why is it that the Red Lion chose you? You're a half-breed, you never will truly fit anywhere.” It was as if he was nit-picking the facts that would hurt him the most, ones that Keith had hid away. “An outcast, nothing more or less.” That grated on him and Keith repressed it, but it had struck him deep.

It wasn't like those thoughts never happened. Those thoughts were infrequent and occurred on some of those nights after a night terror. To bring it back up, Keith hated the liability that he was lended to.

Clinching his fist, wishing he had his knife Keith took a step forward. Bringing a hand up, he turned the visor translucent in opacity, letting his eyes show.

“Maybe you're right. But that doesn't matter, not to me—not to anyone else.” He looked straight at him, and he sneered hoping that Zarkon saw exactly how human he could be. “That's exactly why the Red Lion picked me. It knows what I am and it accepted that.” From that Keith felt a tug of gratification that wasn’t from him and Keith gained some of his self-confidence back.

Taking that in, Zarkon seemed to entertain him. Then he began to stand, tremendous in stature, the crests ostentatious on him as he stood. Instinctively, Keith had taken a step back but he made it just one step, challenging the tyrant. However either the unworded challenge went unbidden as the ruler went towards him, a yard from him but close enough that Keith could make out the fissure that curved down through his left eye to his mouth.

The emperor slogged on. “I am the pilot of the Black Lion.” From that alone, Keith blanched but the alien went on. “A true paladin can establish total control rather than a bond.” A air of egotism could be heard from his tonality and Keith didn’t appreciate much for it.

“Bonds can be easily made.” The eyes seemed to smolder with an impeding malevolence, as he continued with his speech. “It can be easily broken as well.” A growl echoed, and it seemed that Zarkon had heard it from how his eyes then searched the space. Then it came to a stop, despite that Keith could feel the ire that came off in tidal waves.

Keith smirked when he had heard it and that Zarkon had too. “I don’t think this bond will break.”

“Do you even know what Voltron is?”

The abruptness caught Keith off-guard and Zarkon smiled virulent, reveling at knowing something that Keith didn’t. “Then I have nothing to fear. You won’t ever see the Red Lion again I can tell you that. Then what will you do?”

The anger genuinely came from Keith and he barred his teeth. His hands clinching at his sides as he set his shoulders.

“Why don’t you just kill me then?” The tyrant’s beaked mouth came to a line, as if in contemplation. Keith had a delayed realization that he was suppose to be arguing for his life but he was angered, not just from the taunting but why didn't he know more, what was he missing?

“Haggar convinced me that it would be unwise, a waste from when she had come to me. That was until you proved yourself as a Galra soldier. Or rather half,” Keith let it slide, but kept it in the back of his mind for later purposes.

The giant extraterrestrial, appeared to have gotten closer but Keith didn’t let it frighten him. The engulfing occupancy Keith had felt was as prominent to when he had been with Haggar, and Keith didn't crumble under it.

“The Red Lion is the most mercurial of the lions.” Keith had a suspicion from how it annihilated those fighter planes so easily. Having you under my control would be the wisest choice, for you.” His eyes didn’t move from him. “You can prove your worth still, for being a half Galran.”

It was said as if Keith should be ashamed that he was part human and Keith smothered the compulsion to battle it out with the overlord. Keith wanted his knife to at least make another scar on his face (so he could be symmetrically ugly), or hold him hostage.

“Do you devote yourself to me?”

What other choice did he have? If he didn't accept what he had, he would die and Ulaz or Thace could be investigated afterwards. If he did obey, then he could play toy soldier for however long they winded him up. The only reason why Zarkon was suspicious was that he had a apparent bond with the Red Lion. It was the easiest and logical option, for the time being.

Keith changed the opacity on his visor, his eyes in a downcast.

“Yes.”

 

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Keith was cornered by Thace and Ulaz shortly after, as they had jammed into a custodian's closet. They didn't have to worry about being taped because the space was too small and that the closet would be in the dark.

Flicking on the light, Thace looked to Keith. From his appearance he was harried, Ulaz wringing his hands.

“What exactly happened—”

Ulaz barged in, “We heard that a cadet could pilot the Red Lion—one wearing the helmet—”

“Yes. That was me. I piloted the robot lion.” Keith eyed between the two as they took in that new bits of information. While they did Keith crossed his arms, displeased with them.

“Can someone tell me what Voltron is?” From their perpetuated silence Keith heaved out an exhale with some well intended begging. “Please.”

The two had been communicating through their eyes and Thace eventually gave way as Ulaz crossed his arms across his chest too but in a chiding manner. As the pair had traded furtive mumbles to themselves, they looked to Keith as the boy had taken off his helmet to stare at them, to further their guilt if they had an inkling of one.

Taking a seat on a beat up carton, Thace mulled it over. Ulaz had leaned against the door as Keith stood against the shelves of cleaning products. All were gridlocked in a stalemate, in their stopgap territories, before the two others conceded.

“Okay fine—should I tell him?” Ulaz nodded at him and Thace gave a burdensome sigh before turning to Keith.

“Voltron is a defender of the universe or was. Back when King Alfor was alive, Alteans and Galrans were in an alliance.” This sent Keith reeling and he needed a desperate reality check at the moment.

From what he had been told, Galrans and Alteans were cut-throat enemies and never involved themselves with each other unless for war. Then that was it, Alteans had become extinct and there hadn't been anything else Keith had been told about, end of the story, the end. Despair entered from being deceived that Thace picked up on to correct himself.

“Keith—look, it's a lot more complicated than that.”

“Really, is it?” It was soaked in sarcasm but Thace passed over that.

“Yes.”

“Well,” Ulaz started, making the two others look to him. “Zarkon wanted more. More power, more sovereignty and eventually they had a falling out from their personal standpoints. A war had began, a tedious one. The four other paladins went against him and died in the battle, the Altean planet and race was destroyed and Zarkon began taking over.” Ulaz looked at Keith. “Which brings us currently, here.”

Not in the dirty closet they were crammed in, but from how much Zarkon reign was going the remaining planets might as well be.

Made sense, Keith guessed. That there was a falling out and that sometimes evil would trump goodness, winning was half the battle—but it seemed that they were already losing, fast. But something didn't add up to Keith. Furrowing his eyebrows, Keith brought up a crucial point to them.

“But how can I pilot the Red Lion if the predecessor is dead? Zarkon said something about bonds…” he left that off for the others to fill him in.

Thace picked it up from there. “It's said that five people will come and protect the universe. In a watered down interpretation: it was prophesied.” Thace concluded and Keith accepted that to an certain extent.

There was so much that he could take in on how hectic this day was going. First he created a bond with a somewhat alive roboticized lion while going on a rampage on aircrafts, secondly having a one-on-one audience with the grandest dictator the universe had seen as of late. He certainly got farther than the others. From how his army was multiplying, Keith didn't know if they'd win this war as it gnawed into him.

Yet all Keith desired was to was to sleep off the events, momentarily forget it but even then Keith was dubious that he could.

Prophecies weren't too sound to Keith (or trustable) but Ulaz had cued in.

“Wait you met Zarkon?”

“Yes?”

“How—how did you manage to get yourself out? Alive?” It was like it was beyond their comprehension and Keith just looked at them, gauging their reactions.

Spinning the helmet in his hands, Keith propped himself up on cargo boxes. It appeared that it would be a long talk. Every pause once in awhile within their conversation, they listened for passing footfalls but none came within their area and Keith took a breather before beginning.

“Haggar had figured out I wasn't all Galran investigating me. Which she told to Zarkon who apparently wanted to kill me but after the tournament, I had more to me than he had thought.” Keith thought for a second. “I think he wants me to suffer since he's separating me and the machine so we can't come into contact but I still feel it.”

Strings at his fingertips, it was pulling at him, for him to seek it out again. Farther but still within his reach, obtainable. The whir had become a faint buzz in his ears, if it wanted to be found it would increase as Keith pricked his hearing for it.

The two seemed to ponder over it to what Keith had been telling them up until the suffer part to which they both had inquiries.

“That doesn't make sense. Zarkon doesn't want to form Voltron so he would have killed you to make sure that didn't happen. Volton is the one catalyst to him, that's why he's sent it to the farthest parts of the universe.”

“Geez Thace when you put it that way you make it sound like a bad thing.”

“Hold on.” Ulaz had his hand to his chin, introspective. “Perhaps Zarkon does want to kill you but not in this way.” He looked briefly to Keith. “He may think of you as compelling, how a half human had made it so far. Maybe he wants to find out who you really are. Test how much you can take.”

Keith shook his head. “Doubt it. He already knows what I am, I'm pretty sure and he probably is done testing me.” Keith decided that he wouldn't say how much he knew, highlighting the important parts of the conversation that had went down. “He did make me swear allegiance to him in a way to uphold my position. More of a forced option but hey—it worked.”

From that they giving a glance between each other and groaned. Keith eyes went between them before Ulaz began again.

“That makes it a whole lot more difficult.”

 

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Eventually they left the closet one by one, as Keith came out last. Going down the corridor he made his way to the dormitories.

The trio had gone over the things that Keith could and couldn't do no longer because Zarkon had made Keith a prime suspect to be under scrutiny.

Both had rejected his suggestion of assassination because then his heir would adhere to the throne which was worst, disastrous even. It would set the axes of all the planet system in a tailspin, out of orbit.

They'd report to Kolivan for what should be prioritized but until then they had all agreed that Keith should keep to himself. Which he informed them that he was doing a splendid job at that.

Curfew wouldn't be called yet and the time had lapsed into the moderated time. Keith's schedule had been null from his superiors and his brain was in urgent attention for a nap from overloading the information that he had to subjugated to.

However when walking down the hallway he saw recruiters that were by his door. When they spotted him, he was flocked by them, mouths moving too much and fast for him to understand.

“You saw Zarkon?! I've always wanted to meet him, he's so cool—”

“How did you pilot the Red Lion? I thought only Paladins could…”

“You got the day off?! What did you do?”

“You're kinda cool despite that you never say anything!”

Keith had been worned out and now alarmed by the interactiveness. Too many things had gone on and now there were too many things around him and he couldn't answer all of them so he had put his hands up to yield. Hopefully they would go away, but they were persistent, asking every possible question that came into their heads.

“Guys!” The blunt voice made them come to a stutter, and he saw that it was the alien that had been his partner from those months ago. “Leave him alone. Obviously high and mighty won't tell us anything.”

There were groans and backhanded comments over shoulders but they milled back to their activities as the other made his way to him. Keith eyed the other as he strolled over. “Despite the shitty stuff we have to go through they still find goodness in things—it's kinda amazing really.” The sliver of scar tissue on him made Keith guilty before he got within arm-distance as he rifled through his belt.

Keith went rigid as if ready to bolt, and furthering into a flight-or-fight response when he saw what he brought out of his zippered pocket. He got rid of whatever guilt he had.

The intricate motif of the knife glowed brightly in the hands of a full Galran and Keith felt a little contempt for that. Nonetheless, he stepped toward him, hand gestured out, peeved that they had been in his room. Did they all see it, figure out what it was? Keith was fed up with today and this wasn't helping in the slightest.

“Give it back.”

“Not unless you tell me answers.” He flipped the knife over. “Like your name, for one—yeah?”

Keith held out his hand. “It's not important. Now give it back or I'll fight you.” Right then and there because Keith had to take his frustration out in some way if he couldn't sleep it off.

It wasn't the ideal place to have a scuffle but there were some fights he heard outside his door that went by before being resolved by an instructor. There would usually be someone or passers that knocked on his door, to notify him of the fight that got him annoyed, since all Keith wanted was peace of mind.

“Well mine is Zarkón.” Keith also hadn't expected that, this alien was full of surprises. “Yeah I know named after the great ruler himself, mom just had too. But spoken with an accent to make it one of a kind which doesn't make much sense. I think she had too many painkillers...”

Zarkón didn't draw back, but kept the knife in his hand. Keith withdrew his hand letting it go to his side. Idle chat wasn't part of fighting Keith liked and his resolve wilted as the exhaustion of the day pushed him over.

“Look even if you want answers I can't give them out like charity. And if you want to tattletale on me—go on ahead but it won't do you much good if I already did it on myself.”

The other cadet was baffled. “You snitched on yourself?” Unguarded, Keith saw the opportunity to take the knife. Putting his hand out, he put himself nearer to the door.

“Yes, I did.” Taking the knife out of his hand without a struggle Keith placed it to his side.

It was a partially a lie, since Keith couldn't tell that good of lies, so he decided to mix the truth and lying into one another. Which had thrown the other off, as he shut the door in his face. Pulling the chair over, he put it under the handle before bundling himself under his comforters. The knife went back into its rightful place, but Keith put it into his pillowcase this time.

The smell of sweat from his unwashed hair hadn't bothered him yet into taking the helmet off. Instead had Keith put the  ventilator on to high, and turned over to face out the window. Letting the tinted screen of his helmet disintegrate, he let his eyes pander over a quasar that the ship was stationed by.

 

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There was a knocking that wasn’t like Thace or Ulaz. Theirs were strategic and barely there taps to not draw attention from the slumbering others. This was brash and not secretive whatsoever, probably awakening everyone within a mile radius of them.

A migraine throbbed madly at his lobes, Keith groaning as he turned off the visor to rub at his eyes. There was whispering before it had quieted and then there was a more pronounced banging that wasn't from his head.

Getting up and flicking on his visor, he wretched the chair from the door and swung it open. There was a gaggle of Galrans, the one whose name was Zarkón, with an accent, that had his hand in mid-knock.

“Glad to see your still living,” he gave him a once over, “do you ever take that helmet off? Is it for a cool mysterious facade?” The hallway was empty besides them, and Keith scooted out and shut the door behind him. Dimness from the bathroom stalls, embellishing their uniforms and Keith could distinguish the ranking on their suit. From the rise of authority he scrutinized him with caution.

Keith scowled at him, knowing he still couldn't see that but it didn't matter. “What do you want?” From hearing him talk the others made small talk to themselves, uneasy but the other wasn't giving up.

The alien held a hand up, palm up and clawed fingers out, lackadaisical. “So there's this thing is going on but underclassmen can't go—but!” He held a finger up. “I managed to hook us up from these upperclassmen,” he gestured to the aliens from him that Keith didn't pay much mind too, “if I could get you to come along.”

Keith made himself think it over, his headache lightening. He held a hand out and Zarkón looked to him expectant.

“Only if you don't mess with me after this.”

“Deal.”

They shook on it.

Going down the corridors, the arena had been been expanded to the lower levels. It still ran the schedule of past midnight, past curfew. Compared to the last time, it was twice as big, and twice as many people.

Some of the aliens he didn't even think were soldiers, simpletons that reveled in bloodlust. The blaring spotlights and noise was bringing back his headache, and Keith went to activate the noise cancellation. Zarkón tried to invoke a conversation with him but he gestured up to his helmet and crossed his arms in a ‘x’, to show he wasn't interested in one.

They were directed into the stands, front row tickets to it as they sat into the cubbied seats. Ignoring the stringing closeness of the others, he crossed his arms, head tilted down. Keith never wanted to come back here.

Then there was the hulking build that made up a alien. It was taller than any species he had seen, and Keith knew if he gone up against that for his test he would have died instantly. Even with his decade and a couple leftover years of training, Keith couldn't have taken the whole thing down by himself.

The gargantuan lugged itself into the stadium, a torch holder and its flame in it. Then he swung it, the orb leaping out to circle back with a violet arc and clunking back into place. The public blustered at the blatant showboating, and Keith knew what would happen next.

A tiny alien was pulled out, scrawny as if deprived of its necessities. It's garbs were molded, as if they hadn't been treating it properly which Keith knew it hadn't been, from how malnourished it appeared.

Plant based, drooping from taken out of its ecosystem as it had been thrown in, crumpling from the impact. The vividness on its petal had diminished, a few peeling from its head. Keith felt a twinge of sympathy and saw that Zarkón beside him didn't agree with the treatment no matter how hard he had concealed the creasing in his eyebrows and forehead. The others they had come with were enraptured, with the rest of the crowd.

The huge thing had taken steps toward the creature, but the creature had its hands on the ground. Thrusting it in the sandy ground, roots came out and wrapped around the alien that bellowed out. But then he thrashed from side to side, taking the alien out of the ground as the sustenance wasn't strong enough as the soil couldn't sustain life force. The roots had disintegrated into nothing, the one advantage it had was useless.

For several minutes Keith watched the alien amble from it, before it caught up. It was an execution, a guillotine coming down.

With one swing, the orb came round and decapitated the alien. It's head flew off, rolling. Unfortunately for Keith it had been right in front of him.

A spray of viridian splattered on him, and others in the front rows. Even without the cancellations, Keith felt the reverberations of the mob and saw how bloodthirsty they were, taking him by the shoulders and hustling him. Green blood had dripped on his helmet to his suit and from his side, Zarkón hadn't spared either from the greens painted across his armor.

Keith closed his eyes, it was over and he could leave now. But the creature looked over at the side and yelled, cupping his hands and an orator agreed and another alien was let out, looking sickly.

The champion had raised the head, a trophy, and the audience approved. The new alien was in hysterics.

Keith's stomach did flips when taking in how the games had changed. Now instead, they brought in aliens that were purposely weak to go against stronger opponents that had prior experience.

They were thrown in with no chance of succeeding. This wasn't a tournament, this was death sentence.

It didn't last long as the patron for the alien had halted it, taking back their finest money-maker. The crowd was filing for the match that would be for tomorrow, the older cadets were avidly talking to themselves as Keith and Zarkón hanged back.

Afterwards, Keith went back to his dormitory, Zarkón trailing him.

He knew he was talking to him and Keith switched off the noise cancellation. Zarkón seems stricken with a malady, from how ashen he had become.

“—that was seriously fucked up—”

Keith was angered, voice as sharp as his blade. “Yeah it was. Now leave me alone.” Then he slammed the door with more force than intended but didn't care.

Vaulting his helmet off into a corner of his bed, he was thankful he had spares as Keith took off his clothes. The tightened webbing of the clothes was suffocating him, and he wrenched it off. He went to sleep in his undergarments, the sickly saccharine blood staining his clothing that had been launched into the hamper.

Down the hallway, he heard the wrenching of someone in the bathroom. Keith's own stomach had been upset but he gulped it down.

He ignored the sounds and the sickness in his bellyache, turning over in his bed and pretending that he could go back to sleep.

 

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A month crawled by.

Keith had turned older, not feeling so young anymore. He just felt tired, sleep couldn't fulfill him from how nightmares became more often, not just at night. His hair that had been poking barely at his ears when he had enrolled, at his neck and he had to wadded it inside his helmet.

During the passage of time, Keith hadn't been demoted as he had expected but rumors were a wildfire throughout the ship.

A cadet that could control the Red Lion was a feat in itself but it felt that they were putting him at the back, when the officials faces turned at him.

_He's a half-breed. Makes sense, doesn't it?—that's why he's so puny._

_Disgraceful. How disgusting._

_Wonder what he really is._

Talk of his family inheritance had become valid to him somehow, and Keith avoided it to which speculation came into play. All part of his daily routine as a spy.

As much as Keith attempted to, Keith kept from them as the others reverence for his mysterious looks and skills had changed to scorn. However no one made an attempt at coming into direct contact, degrading him with senile words that wore on him.

Noticing, Thace and Ulaz cheered him as much as possible. Kolivan had agreed to Keith's profile of taking the alternative, and was sympathetic to a fault. Pep talks were a condolence as much as back patting and arm cradling that Keith craved more than he would admit. Emotional connection tethered him down and renewed himself as the month drew to a close.

The Red Lion was a lingering thing in the back of his head, catching him in not thought out thoughts, there but not as intrusive as before.

Graduating to the lower ranks to sentry duty, Keith found himself patrolling the halls. While his crewmates had went up to the ranks of going off the ship and to off planets, Keith was stuck under the watchful eyes of the place. The other cadet didn't talk to him after that night and Keith was sure he had been drafted to a planet.

It wasn't the worst thing but it wasn't the greatest thing either. But when he had to patrol by the prisoners he couldn't shake off the pandemic that plagued him. Conditions for imprisonment had gotten severe, withholding provender whenever a alien acted out. Experimentation and interrogation techniques were implemented, that they had started teaching to the classes. Keith didn't include himself into the experiments, staying far from it and out of participation.

Into the job, the more he circulated around the ship, the more likely he was prone to see handcuffed prisoners. Most that couldn't participate in the arena had been put to work. Then Keith saw one that were wheelbarrowing dead bodies out of the ship.

From a logical view, it made sense where they went. But the thought had fractured Keith’s thinking and perspective on how war was to how it was perceived among the younger soldiers. There was no glory in war, glorifying it was glossing over what it authentically was, without the rewards and sacrifices that were made. All that mattered was the end result, who emerged as the winner.

But those caught in the crossfire? To be killed and then not even given a proper burial. No one would know what became of them, no respect given, no loved ones to mourn over. Dropped off into the vacuum of space where the bodies wouldn't ever decompose—

That had messed him up where he had thrown his helmet at the wall of his room, quickened breathes in his chest as he kicked at a chair. It crashed, over to its side and he fell onto the ledge of his mattress from premature dizziness.

There wasn't much he could do to help them, all he could do was slip them extra rations through. Even then, they despised him, claiming that he was taunting and depriving them of more.

Eventually, Keith calmed himself down, wrapping his arms around him and putting his head up to gaze at an orbiting asteroid. The revolutions as it came round and round gave him some needed solace. One day he would get out of this war and start a new life, he thought after a while.

Then something unexpected happened.

As Keith had tried not to wallow in bitterness at the whole ordeal, there were new prisoners that had been captured. They were to be transferred to the main fleet from what he had been told from Thace. A forewarning that these were the firsts of a species on their ships before Thace had to be debriefed.

System X-9-Y had found three terrestrials and Keith’s heart had spiked from that.

In the range of a few minutes he had offered his assistance as he and two other soldiers were on standby.

Questions streamed in subconsciously. Would they be like him? Would they look like him? Speak like him? What were they like—? And so on. Before long his answered would be answered as he put the gun back into the holster unlike the other two who scoffed at him; Keith wouldn’t use any excessive force.

A commander fleet had docked, and Keith saw the three. All humans, all real, and there. 

One was struggling in his confines while the other had their heads bowed. They were in large clothing that didn't seem suitable for space travel. As they boarded, the more resistant of the three had gotten, his head thrown back that it collided with the holder’s chin. Snarling he raised the hard edges of his gun, but Keith jumped in.

Putting his hand between him, he shook his head and the guard snorted but lowered his gun.

“Careful this one will probably kill you. I had to knock him out so he's a bit out of it though.” Keith didn't doubt it, if he was in a same circumstance he would too. Being held prisoner on things that weren't supposed to exist would be terrifying.

Taking the human by the arms that had been locked behind his back, they bid leave to their commanding officer, as they went down. The man wouldn't stop squirming or trying to stop him by dragging his feet to stall him in any possible way he could and Keith had to applaud his tenacity, letting him wear himself out.

“Stop! Please!” The words were human, raw, as if he had been saying it for a while.

Keith swallowed his misery, the helplessness returning.

They had come to an empty cell, and they put them in. The last of them, the one that Keith had, had thrown his headpiece at the shutting door in defiance, and that's when Keith saw him.

Grey eyes that were almost the same as his own flared, body heaving with exhaustion but still strong, and promised that he could be stronger. A shock of black hair whipped over his maelstrom eyes and the sweeping structures of a nose that strained to the vast constructs of his jawline to a clenching mouth and throat.

But his eyes never strained from Keith as then Keith had left when he was called by the other guards. Even then he felt it peering out to him.

The searing hurt and rage had stayed with Keith throughout the day.

It felt that none of his questions had been answered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well so that happened. Both Keith and Shiro are suffering. Also the OC I got the idea from Varkon (I was so close to naming him Zarkoff) and he's really minor and won't be around so yeah. Don't worry things have to get WORST before they get better :)) Comments and Kudos are appreciated peace!


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